


Undercover

by Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness



Series: Prodigal Son [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Baby!Malcolm, Coming Untouched, Confessions, Daddy!Gil, Daddy!Kink, Hair Pulling, Is the ship name Aright?, Killer caught, M/M, No Safeword, Sex Club, Spanking, Topping from the Bottom, Un-Negotiated Kink, Undercover As Gay, bottom!Malcolm, top!gil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28962171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness/pseuds/Masterpiece_of_turkey_cleverness
Summary: Gil and Malcolm have to go to a sex club undercover to catch a killer.  Sexy hijinks ensue.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Series: Prodigal Son [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124267
Comments: 11
Kudos: 40





	Undercover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mrs_SimonTam_PHD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/gifts).



> All the credit for this aside from the actual writing goes to @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell. We were talking about the season premiere, I mentioned that Malcolm ended up in a sex dungeon, and Luci had this idea. Then I started writing it in her DMs, saying that I'd get stuck at a certain point (I did). She constantly encouraged me and got me unstuck. This is the result. 
> 
> She has said she wants more, so there's probably going to be more--not right away as I have work to do, but at some point. Inspiration and time willing.
> 
> PS, this is my first foray into the Prodigal Son fandom, hopefully you don't mind me coming over and playing in your sandbox, because your sandbox is pretty awesome :). 
> 
> Oh, and Daddy kink's not my thing--but Luci didn't complain, so I have to assume I didn't write it /too/ terribly.

"This isn't going to work," Gil grumbled. "I don't know what I'm looking for. And I feel like an idiot."

"It will. Remember, the man we're looking for is into extreme humiliation. Just look for someone who's doing something horribly degrading to someone else. And, anyway, _you're_ not the one in what amounts to a leather diaper and a leash."

"Yeah, speaking of that, won't everyone in there be doing something degrading to someone else?"

"Not the subs, no. And not most of Doms, either. They'll be into other things, like pain."

"Pain." Gil repeated flatly.

"Mostly impact play, I'd assume." Bright was doing that overexplaining thing that always made Gil nervous, and he narrowed his eyes at the young man--who, as usual, didn't notice. "Most of the subs will be masochists--they'll be enjoying it. Look for the one who hates what's being done to him or her."

Gil sighed, but had to admit, he could probably do that much. There was an element of tension present, so he tried to smooth it over. "Do I want to know how you know all of this?"

"Probably not," Malcolm said. Gil hated himself, but nearly every time his subordinate said something, he wanted to make a pun about how he said it bright-ly. Especially since he usually did, when they were going to catch a killer. Although this had to be the weirdest situation yet--they were about to go undercover at a sex club (Izzy had recommended it to Malcolm) to try to catch a killer who was apparently into 'extreme humiliation.' Gil knew that somehow, this was going to come back and bite him in the ass--he'd be removed as the Head of Major Crimes. But, at the same time...they needed to catch this killer, who was wreaking havoc across New York. Any port in a storm, right?

"Don't worry, you'll be fine as a Dom. Just tell anyone who asks that you prefer to be called Daddy, and look at them like you look at JT when he's forgotten to turn in one of his reports again. Yeah! Just like that," Malcolm continued to enthuse. "If anyone asks, just say you were curious and decided to come and watch, not participate, today."

Gil felt some of the color leave his cheeks at the thought of participation, but he nodded. Hopefully they'd go in, and within minutes Bright would identify the killer.

An hour or so later, Gil realized just how wrong he'd been. They'd gotten to the club at ten, but apparently that was still early, and there were only a handful of people there. Bright had suggested Gil mostly ignore him--as much as you could ignore someone on a leash kneeling at your feet. No one was up on the stage yet, and Bright had been sure that their killer would want to make a public spectacle of the humiliation they dished out. So, Gil was sitting on a stool--thankfully, not in a stupid costume--and attempting to go for the world record for making a whiskey sour last.

Gil felt something nudge his leg, and he looked down. "May I have some, Daddy?" Bright asked, in a tone that--holy shit. They were supposed to just be undercover; Gil wasn't supposed to _like_ it.

He covered his shock with a cough, and then lowered his glass for Malcolm to drink from. "Yes, Br--baby boy." There should be some rule about heads of departments going undercover, but Bright had successfully argued that JT just...didn't look the part. Any part, apparently.

"Thank you, Daddy." Malcolm smiled up at him, and Gil couldn't help but smile back.

"Such a polite baby," commented an attractive brunette, who had walked over to them. "I don't suppose you two are looking for a Mommy? May I?" she added, reaching a hand toward Malcolm's hair.

Gil felt a surge of protectiveness, and caught the woman's hand before it landed on Bright's hair. He took a moment to remember what the profiler had told him to say. "Sorry, we're exclusive."

"Too bad," the woman said, but smiled at them to let them know there were no hard feelings and had the bartender fix her a drink before she walked back to the table she'd been at.

Without thinking, Gil set his hand down...on Malcolm's hair. He was again shocked by how good it felt-- _especially_ when Bright leaned into the touch, and nuzzled his leg. Then he was shocked again by the fact that Malcolm had been kneeling beside him for over an hour in almost total silence. He didn't think he'd ever seen the kid that quiet for that long.

Around half-past the hour, business in the club started picking up. A man took to the stage and began tying a naked woman up, but she looked as if she was enjoying herself, so Gil assumed that the man wasn't their perp. Without the bartender's steady attention on them, he leaned down a little. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes, Daddy," Bright replied, and fuck if that didn't go straight to Gil's groin a little. "I'm watching the show, Daddy."

"Maybe you'll learn that knot Edrissa used," Gil replied. He had only spared the stage a few glances; the basketball game on TV had most of his attention. "Tell me if you need a break."

"Yes, Daddy," Malcolm replied in his most innocent tone. Damnit. Gil was supposed to be attracted to Jessica, not Bright.

Over the next hour or so, the man on stage segued into fucking the now-bound woman, and at least one sub was being spanked elsewhere, but Gil didn't see anything extreme. Thankfully. He didn't understand how people could be this comfortable showing off their bodies like this--especially since none of them looked as good as Bright. Mentally growling at himself, he tried to erase that thought, but couldn't. Maybe if Malcolm stopped acting like some kind of slave... "Take a break," he said, looking down at Bright. "I don't want you to hurt your knees."

"Yes, Daddy." Malcolm stood up, wavered due to poor circulation, and with a bump from another patron, ended up square in Gil's lap.

Gil stared at the shit-eating grin on Bright's face; he knew what it meant, and he spoke before he could think. "Did you--did you do that on _purpose?_ " he demanded.

Bright fluttered his eyelashes. "Mmmmaybe, Daddy?"

Gil went to grab Bright, and since he wasn't wearing a shirt, his hand ended up clutching his hair. "Bright. Tell me there's an actual fucking killer on the loose and that you're not pranking me," he hissed.

"Ow! Daddy, it hurts!" Bright wailed. "I'm not pranking you, Daddy, I promise!"

Gil immediately released Bright's hair, but they now had the attention of those nearby. "Bratty sub?" commented the man sitting next to him. The man's facial features were average, his eyes a sort of brownish-green as he gave Malcolm a once-over. "Most would recommend a good spanking, but I think they like those too much. If I were you, I'd make him ask everyone here to spit on him. Politely, of course."

Gil stared at the man. People got off on that sort of thing? He opened his mouth to say something, but Malcolm suddenly straddled him. "Don't, Daddy, please," he begged, pouting. "Don' wan' be _humnilneated._ " And...holy shit, was that Bright's cock? He was hard against Gil. Fuck, it was getting hard to think, which was a problem, as Gil was pretty sure Malcolm was trying to tell him something.

"I don't want everyone's germs on him," Gil decided to go with the truth. "Especially after COVID. Bright, would you-- _stop squirming,_ " he ordered, without meaning to. Malcolm obeyed, instantly going still in his lap. Where was this heady feeling coming from? "I'll make sure he regrets his behavior when we get home," and he found himself sounding completely sincere.

"Urine's sterile," smirked the guy next to them. "But he's your sub." He toasted them, and turned to his other side.

"He's into humiliation! Gil, this might be our guy! We have to get his attention again," Bright hissed in Gil's ear.

"How?" Gil glared at Bright, choosing to ignore the fact that the other man was turned on--after all, it wasn't as if Bright could exactly help it. Maybe it was some weird side effect of one of the drugs he took, although Gil always thought that those lowered your libido.

"Uh--shove me off your lap and then pour your drink on me," Bright said. "Then, I don't know, make me crawl over to him and apologize or something. But remember, call me baby boy."

Gil sighed, but it was a simple matter to shove Bright to the floor and then slowly pour the rest of his drink over him (it was about time he bought another, anyway). The man looked back, and laughed as Bright spit bits of drink out. "That works too," he commented.

"Apologize to the nice man, baby boy," Gil ordered, before waving to the bartender and gesturing to his empty glass.

Bright, hamming it up as always, crawled over to huddle at the man's feet, looking up at him through his eyelashes. "I'm sorry I was a brat, Sir. I hope I didn't cause you any inconvenience. Please forgive me."

The man raised an eyebrow, and stuck out his foot. To Gil's surprise, Bright actually kissed the man's shoe. Was he...really into all of this? The erection suggested he was. Gil took a rather longer drink from this whiskey sour than he had the first. "Come back to Daddy, baby boy," he ordered. It felt...strangely natural. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to giving orders, or being obeyed.

Gil found himself unconsciously pulling on the leash, and let it go slack the instant he did as Bright shuffled over to him, laying his head on his lap and looking up at him. "I'm sorry I was a brat, Daddy. Can I please come up in your lap again?" Gil assumed Bright had a reason for doing so--something to do with the possible killer sitting next to them. And, what with the liquid he'd poured on him being mostly alcohol, Bright was mostly dry again.

"Fine," Gil replied, and suddenly found his lap full of Malcolm again.

"What?" Gil murmured, as Malcolm put his arms around the older man. "What's our play, Bright? What do we do?"

"'S not him, Daddy," Bright said back. "No construction dust on his shoe. I don't think he's here tonight; I've been looking at everyone's shoes."

"Should we go, then?" Gil asked, feeling himself relax. No killer, no bust, no reason for them to be there.

Bright rolled his eyes. "No, Daddy, I'm not ready yet." He looked exasperated, and Gil couldn't figure out why. Until Bright leaned forward and kissed him. Gil's eyes went wide, and then slowly closed.

All Gil could really think was how wrong this was. He'd essentially been a surrogate father to Malcolm for most of his life. But...he couldn't claim he wasn't attracted to the man on his lap. Who was an adult, and had kissed _him_. "See, I hate that," commented the guy next to them--probably not their killer--"Topping from the bottom is still topping. I tell subs they can't do that with me." Gil had no idea what that even meant as he slowly relaxed into the kiss. It took him some time to open his mouth, but Bright waited patiently for him, taking it slow.

Kissing a man turned out to not be so different from kissing a woman, though Bright had a bit of a five o'clock shadow, which was odd. That was really the last coherent thought Gil managed before all of his blood rushed south, however. Bright finally broke the kiss so they could gasp for air, and set his forehead against Gil's so they could look into each other's eyes. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he murmured, just audible over the club's music.

Gil said the first thing that came to mind. "Tell me you didn't set all of this up just to do this, Bright."

Malcolm chuckled. "Baby boy, remember, Daddy? No. The killer comes here on a regular basis, I'm sure of it now. We'll just have to try again...you always say police work is all about patience, right, Daddy?"

Malcolm's smirk, not to mention having his own words thrown back at him, annoyed Gil, and he leveled a glare at the profiler. "Are we going to talk about this?" he growled.

"You mean this, Daddy?" Malcolm palmed his erection through his jeans, and damn if it didn't feel good--Gil hadn't been touched like that in a long time, and had to bite back a groan. "Would you like me to kiss it and make it feel better?"

Gil felt himself go crimson. "No! I mean--not here--I mean--damn it, Bright!"

Malcolm gave him that cheeky grin again. "Maybe you should spank me, Daddy. I _am_ being a brat and touching without permission."

"Do you _want_ to be spanked?" Gil was still a bit behind on everything; it didn't help that Malcolm was squirming on his lap and thus distracting him something awful.

Bright rolled his eyes. " _Yes,_ Daddy, _please_ spank me."

It was the rolled eyes that did it. That, and maybe Gil had been wanting to do this, too, for a _very_ long time. Dropping the leash, he unconsciously turned away from the bar and toward the crowd before manhandling Malcolm until he was ass-up over his lap, the longish bits of his hair falling into his downturned face. Without hesitating, Gil brought his hand down on the leather short-shorts Malcolm was wearing. He was surprised when Malcolm responded with a moan and a, "One! Thank you, Daddy!" but not enough to stop. Instead, he continued spanking Bright, watching the man squirm and try to rut against his thigh. Once again, he felt that heady rush of power, and once again, he liked it. In fact, and there was no longer any doubt whatsoever about this, it turned him on.

Gil continued to spank Malcolm, only gradually becoming aware that they'd attracted an audience, who were both enjoying it and making suggestions--"Pull those shorts down, otherwise he'll barely feel it!" "Harder!" "Careful, he's going to come!" "I can get you a paddle, if you want." Malcolm continued to count and thank him, although his voice was starting to sound rather ragged, and there was a pained note there Gil wasn't entirely happy about. When did you end a spanking like this?

Malcolm, of course, took the choice away from him, suddenly going rigid and calling out, "Daddy!" Gil felt something damp on his jeans, and knew Malcolm had just come. The crowd groaned in sympathy, likely assuming Bright was now in _serious_ trouble.

A man Gil hadn't seen before walked up to them, and, without asking and before Gil could stop him, flipped a rather relaxed Malcolm over in Gil's lap. He reached for the front of the leather shorts, but Gil caught his hand before he could. Malcolm made a noise, but Gil didn't really register it.

"Relax, I was just going to smear it all over his face so he had to walk around with a badge of shame," the man told Gil. "It's not like he asked permission."

Malcolm was becoming agitated again, and making more noise. It took Gil a second to figure out what he was saying. "'Shim, Daddy, 'ssss...it's him!"

Gil's eyes widened when he realized what Malcolm meant. He glanced down, and sure enough, the man's shoes and pant legs were covered in what looked like concrete dust. Gripping the man's wrist even harder, he yanked him toward them while standing up (Malcolm ended up on the floor, but didn't seem to mind much). "NYPD. You are under arrest for the murder of Patrick Langtree and Jennifer Moore."

The crowd seemed to think he was joking, even once he brought out his badge and the handcuffs. Only the bartender took him seriously enough to call it in. Meanwhile, Malcolm beamed up at him from the floor--orgasm had, killer caught, good day's work. Mostly the first, Gil suspected. He shot Bright a look that said that they'd be having a very long conversation in the near future before reading the killer his Miranda rights.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @masterpieceofturkeycleverness!


End file.
